


Papri(c)ka

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Also maybe canon compliant, M/M, back when everything was happy and no one was crying, late 4/early 5?, slightly AU, somewhere between season 4/5?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian knew that Mickey would agree to anything when he was on his knees in front of him, so he surprised his boyfriend with a <i>you’re watching TV and I’m bored</i> hummer, and managed to find a babysitter for his little brother. Besides, it would be nice bonding time, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Papri(c)ka

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twelvemorestopsandhome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelvemorestopsandhome/gifts).



> born from a conversation i had with jo a little while ago, after mc donald's gave me a lil pack of "hot and spicy seasoning" for my fries aka fire powder and blah blah basically we can make anything into a fic. (it's a talent.) bc idk if you get that seasoning stuff in 'merica, i've just made it spices.
> 
> sidenote: i wrote this while slightly delirious after i came home from work last night. apologies in advance if it makes no sense.

Mickey wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up being roped into this.

One minute, Ian’s mouth was wrapped around his dick, and the next he was agreeing to babysit Carl the following night. Okay, maybe he knew exactly how he had ended up here, but he wasn’t willing to admit that Ian’s mouth could get him to agree to anything.

So here he was. Sitting in the Gallaghers’ living room, Liam on one side, and Carl on the other, watching some random slasher flick that Carl had put in. The amount of blood and gore flying across the screen was making Mickey feel less than great, so he decided to put an end to it. He stood up and went across to turn off the TV. (He could’ve just used the remote, but that obviously hadn’t occurred to him.)

‘Hey!’ Carl protested loudly. ‘I was watching that!’

‘Good for you,’ Mickey replied. ‘What do you want for dinner? Ian said I was supposed to feed you or some shit.’

Carl shrugged. ‘I don’t care. Ask Liam.’

‘Liam?’ Mickey asked.

‘Nugget!’ the small boy cried, grinning happily up at Mickey.

‘Nuggets?’ Mickey repeated. ‘So… Mc Donald’s?’

‘You buying?’ Carl asked.

‘Apparently.’

‘Cool,’ Carl smiled. ‘I want five burgers.’

‘Like fuck are you getting five burgers.’

‘Two burgers?’

Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘Two burgers.’

 

* * *

 

Mickey thought that turning the zombie movie off would bring his appetite back, but damn, he was wrong. Liam was happily scarfing down his nuggets, but Carl? Jesus Christ, kid had burger smeared all over his face, half broken down by the enzymes in his mouth, and looked like he belonged in the fucking movie Mickey had just turned off.

‘You want some fries?’ Carl asked, waving his box at Mickey.

‘Still got my own,’ Mickey replied, shaking his head at the proffered food.

‘Good,’ Carl nodded, getting up and going over to a cupboard in the kitchen. He rummaged around for a bit, before coming back with a couple of little shakers and dumping some of the contents in with his fries.

‘The fuck’re you doing?’ Mickey asked, watching Carl warily as he covered the top of his fries with his hand and started shaking the carton.

‘Seasoning.’

‘With what?’

‘Paprika and chilli powder, mainly,’ Carl said, putting the box down and shoving a couple of slightly red fries in his mouth. ‘You wanna try one?’

As much as every instinct in Mickey’s head was telling him to say no, he was damn curious, and took a fry from Carl, popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly. ‘Holy shit,’ he said, blinking rapidly like it would help with the problem. His tongue felt like it was on fire, and even after gulping down almost half of his drink, his tastebuds hadn’t returned to normal, and his tongue felt slightly numb.

‘What do you think?’ Carl grinned. ‘Good, right?’

‘If you snorted that shit,’ Mickey said, putting a couple of his own untainted fries in his mouth. ‘You’d probably die.’

Carl pondered on that for a second, before he shrugged and said, ‘Let’s find out.’

‘Uh, what?’

Carl ignored him and dumped a small pile of spices on the table, mixing them up with the tip of another fry. ‘You got a dollar bill or something?’

‘Uh…’

‘Never mind,’ Carl replied, pulling a note from his pocket and rolling it into a small tube. He stuck one end near the pile and the other in his nose, covering one nostril and inhaling part of the pile with the other. ‘Wow!’ Carl cried, pulling his head back from the red spices.

‘How you feeling?’ Mickey asked, watching on in mild horror. _If anything happened to Carl, Ian would almost certainly kill him._

‘It burns!’ Carl exclaimed, though he actually sounded pretty enthusiastic about it. ‘Holy shit!’

‘Um, so…’ Mickey began, trailing off as Carl put his nose back to the pile and snorted a bit more. ‘Okay then.’

 

* * *

 

Ian wasn’t too sure leaving Mickey to look after Carl and Liam was a good idea, but Fiona was out with her fuckboy of the minute, Debbie was out… somewhere, Lip was at college, and Kev and Vee were busy, so… that left Mickey. Although God knew that Carl was old enough to be left alone, they just didn’t trust him to not burn the house down.

Ian knew that Mickey would agree to anything when he was on his knees in front of him, so he surprised his boyfriend with a _you’re watching TV and I’m bored_ hummer, and managed to find a babysitter for his little brother. Besides, it would be nice bonding time, right?

He finished up at the club just before two, and was at the Gallagher house a short while later, where he found Carl lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling, and Mickey sitting on the couch, beer in hand, and _Storage Wars_ on the TV.

‘Hey,’ Ian greeted, dropping onto the couch beside Mickey and kissing his jaw. ‘How’d it go?’

‘Your brother snorted –’

‘Coke?!’ Ian yelped. ‘Mickey, what the fuck?’

‘Ay, calm the fuck down and let me finish,’ Mickey frowned. ‘Spices. He snorted spices.’

‘Huh?’

‘Chilli powder and pa–’

‘Paprika,’ Ian finished.

‘Jesus, stop interrupting,’ Mickey shook his head. ‘But yeah. How’d you know?’

‘He’s been doing that for years,’ Ian yawned. ‘It’s his party trick or something.’

‘Fucked up party trick,’ Mickey said lightly.

‘Concerned for his safety or something?’

Mickey snorted. ‘A’ight, you imagine this. You’re me, and I’m you. What would I do if my little brother got fucked up on your watch?’

Ian blinked. ‘Mick, it’s late and I’m too tired to follow along with this. What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that you would be fucked off if something happened to psychopath over there while I was watching him, right?’

‘Oh. Right.’ Ian shrugged and continued, ‘He’s already pretty fucked as it is, Mick.’

‘I can hear you,’ Carl said absently.

‘Cool, go to bed,’ Ian replied. ‘We’ll be up in a minute.’

‘Don’t fuck on the couch,’ Carl said, as he got up and drifted up the stairs past them.

‘Now you’ve said that, we definitely will,’ Mickey shot back.

Ian laughed lightly. ‘Everything else okay, though? Other than Carl doing Carl stuff.’

‘Yeah, everything was fine. We really bonded over that zombie movie.’

‘Really?’

‘No, it was disgusting.’

‘That’s rich, coming from you,’ Ian said, standing and kissing Mickey’s hair. ‘Bed?’

‘Yeah,’ Mickey said, switching off the TV. ‘And I’m kinda offended by that.’

Ian shrugged. ‘That’s okay. I like that you’re kinda disgusting.’

‘How romantic.’

Ian winked. ‘Should I show you just how romantic I can be?’

Mickey waggled his eyebrows suggestively as he got off the couch and followed Ian up the stairs. ‘Definitely.’

**Author's Note:**

> this should've been up last night but my laptop decided to throw a fit and tbh i wasn't about to wait around for it to stop bc it was 2:30am and i just wanted to sleep.
> 
> [tbh you probably know where i am at this point.](http://im-not-his-keeper.tumblr.com/)


End file.
